North-South-Alliance
by Now-I-Know
Summary: This is the story of how Romano and Norway became friends and their "adventures" and mischiefs.
1. Message received

**Chapter 1 – Message received **

It was just ten minutes past midnight when Norway's cell phone vibrated, signalling an incoming message.

Sighing, the blond man put his tablet aside and pulled down his reading glasses to rub his tired eyes before putting the glasses back on to check the message he'd just received via _WhatsApp_. It was from Denmark – or better to say _"The King of Northern Europe"_. _Faen!_ Den had been messing with his cell phone... _again_. He'd need to ask Ice to change the stupid username back the next time he saw him.

The message he'd received from the self-proclaimed _"King of Northern Europe"_ read: _'Come down to the bar!'_

Frowning his forehead Norway waited for another message – Denmark tended to be a chatty person even when texting. And sure enough the short message was followed by a picture. Norway needed a moment to figure out what was going on in the picture and why it looked out of place, before he realized that it depicted Denmark and Spain – both passed out on a table at the hotel bar surrounded by empty beer bottles and wine glasses.

Well, it hadn't taken too long for Den to pass out tonight. He must have drunk a hell lot of beer on an empty stomach if he passed out just three hours after Norway had left him down at the hotel bar. By the way – with whom beside Spain did he leave the Dane?

Norway looked at the photo trying to remember. There had been Romano, who had sat with them at the table beside Denmark, looking annoyed as always and seemingly using his friend as a shield between him and the Spaniard. But no, Romano couldn't have sent the message. He left even before Norway himself did, telling everyone he had a headache and was tired. He had seemed even more irritated than usual, so even Spain had refrained from begging him to stay a little while longer. Romano probably had been even telling the truth regarding the headache and tiredness, for he was attending the meeting on behalf of his ill bedridden brother, who had come down with the flu and had stayed at home in Venice.

Norway couldn't help but to let a little snort escape. Iceland was really doing a pretty good job in keeping him posted on the other countries – though even without his _lillebror_'s intelligence service he'd found out about Italy's illness for Romano had shouted out the information at the morning meeting after being pestered too much by the other countries about his surprising presence at a world meeting and the even more surprising absence of cheerful Italy.

Putting those thoughts aside Norway told himself to concentrate on the task of remembering again. So, who besides Romano had joined them at their table? And why had Romano and Spain even joined Denmark and him? Oh yeah, Prussia. Denmark had been hanging out with him a lot lately. Wasn't Romano also part of their newfound trio? Norway sighed. He needed to ask Iceland about it, he sure must know something.

So, Prussia. He must have taken Denmark's cell phone and sent the message, probably because he still wasn't allowed a smart phone with internet by Germany. Plus Norway doubted that Prussia even had his private number.

Looking at the message and the picture again Norway tried to figure out his next move. It was evident that he should get down to get Denmark and put him into bed – though he doubted that he could carry the tall, heavy Dane all the way up to their room by himself.

Norway thought about it a little bit longer. Having a passed out Denmark in his room would be rather noisy – Den snored like a saw mill, even worse when he was passed out after having drunk too much. And there he had been enjoying the silence. Besides he had just been reading a very gripping passage of _"Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire"_.

Switching his cell phone of – so as not to be disturbed by it again – Norway put it aside on the bed table and took his tablet, unlocking its display.

He was sure Prussia would find a way to get Denmark up to his room.

* * *

**A/N: **

**First - some formal notes:**

**This is my first attempt on an English fanfiction. I hope, I haven't put to much mistakes into my text (I usually write in German - but even there my comma placement sucks pretty much.) - and if you find some please tell me, so that I can correct them. **

**Also the updates on this story might come irregular - depending on my motivation and the workload I've gotta do for University. But I'll try to post a chapter per week. **

**And I rated the story T, because we all know Romanos's foul mouth...**

**Second - some story notes:**

**So, after obsessing over Hetalia Fanfictions - mostly Spamano, DenNor and recently Engmano - I kind of realised that two of my all time favourite characters - Norway and Romano - have a hell of a lot in common and could therefore make awesome friends. In most of my other (not yet published) Hetalia Fanfictions Romano and Norway always end up being friends, so I had the idea of writing this story - but using their country names. **

**Third - translations:**

**faen (Norwegian) - dammit**

**lillebror (Norwegian) - little brother**

**And last, but not least (before I completely forget about it...):**

_**Disclaimer - I don't own Hetalia.**_

**Sooo... and with all this said (and I promise to keep future author notes to a minimum) - see you in the next chapter... hopefully.**

_**_Katie**_


	2. Message ignored

**Chapter 2 – Message ignored**

The sudden loud ring of the soundtrack piece from the laser dance scene from _"Ocean's Twelve"_ disturbed a certain grumpy Italian in his sleep.

"Dammit!" Romano muttered and pulled the bed cover over his head. Who the fuck was calling him at this ungodly hour? What time was it anyway?

Romano tried to sink his head further into the big hotel pillow trying to muffle the sound of his cell phone ringtone, cursing silently to himself. How the hell could he forget to put his damn phone out before going to sleep? And why the hell had he left it in his jacket on the fucking other side of the room? Hell, whoever tried to reach him was pretty fucking persistent!

Romano thought of getting up to turn it off, when suddenly the room went quiet again.

"Thank God!" He murmured, turned around in bed and tried to get back to sleep.

Just when he was about to drift away into the pleasant world of sweet dreams about tomatoes, sun, fast cars and sparkling seawater the annoying ringtone (Maybe he should change it? But it sounded so cool...) went off again.

Cursing loudly in Italian, Romano pushed the bed covers aside and scrambled out of the bed, nearly slipping on his pyjama top, which he had carelessly thrown on the floor after getting to warm under the covers.

Of course the ringing stopped the moment he reached the chair over which he had thrown his jacket after coming back to the room.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" Romano searched the pockets of the jacket for his phone and just as he laid hands on it, the phone went off a third time.

He didn't even care to check the caller's ID before accepting the call and yelling a very angry: "Yes!?"

Nobody answered, which only led to make Romano getting even more irritated. "Who the fuck is this?"

Another moment went by. Then came the rather hesitant answer: _"You've been sleeping already?"_

What the–? "Prussia, you fucking idiot!"

"_You've been sleeping..."_

"Fuck yeah! What do you want that can't wait until the morning?"

"_Spain."_

"What?" Romano looked around the dark hotel room trying to spot the tomato bastard, but he wasn't there. He must still be out – well, that would explain the soothing silence in the room.

"The bastard's not here."

"_I know."_

"Well, fuck if you know why are you calling me then?"

"_Because he is with me."_

Sighing Romano pushed a hand through his hair, not bothering to fix it. "Bastard, you're not making any fucking sense at all."

"_Oh, just come down to the bar."_

"Why?"

"_Because Spain and Denmark got drunk and passed out and I can't carry them both up to their rooms on my own and Norway's successfully ignoring my texts." _

That clever Nordic bastard!

"Cheh, just get them up one by one. You're always boasting about how awesome you're, I bet you'll find a way to solve this problem on your own..."

"_Hey, wait Romano! Don't you dare hang–"_

"Good night, albino potato." And with that he hung up and turned off his phone to avoid being pestered again.

* * *

**A/N: **

**So, here's the second chapter. I kind of was in the mood of writing it before going to work tomorrow, so that I've got 8 hours of work to come up with a solution to make Norway's and Romano's paths cross finally. I orignially intended it to happen in this chapter - but somehow it went into a complete opposite direction. Hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. See you next chapter - when their path's will finally cross... hopefully.**

_**_Katie**_


	3. Strange Scenes in the Corridor

**Chapter 3 – Strange Scenes in the Corridor**

"Dammit! That wanker is so bloody heavy!"

Upon hearing the hushed voice coming from the corridor, Norway looked up from his tablet for the first time after turning off his cell phone. What was England doing in front of his hotel room? Wasn't his room a floor higher? And who was the bloody heavy wanker he was complaining about?

"Oh quit complaining, Artie! I gave you the choi–"

"You bloody well knew that I would refuse to carry the tomato git up to his room! And it's _Arthur_ – get your mind around that already! It's annoying enough to be called Artie by the hamburger idiot from time to time."

"Yeah, yeah – whatever. Let's get a go on and drop these useless bastards already..."

"You know, I can see why Romano and Norway didn't come down to get them..."

Norway put his tablet aside. So the annoying albino had found some poor idiot to help him with the passed out Denmark and Spain... He wondered what he had bribed England with to help him out or more likely the unfortunate Briton had just crossed the desperate Prussian's path at the wrong moment and was waltzed over by the overbearing idiot.

Anyway... They were making quite a ruckus in the corridor outside. He should probably open the door and let them in before they managed to wake up the entire corridor, for mind you, Switzerland was staying just two rooms further down that very corridor. And you don't want to wake up Switzerland – he had quite the reputation for destroying alarm clocks. Now imagine that alarm clock to be a living being...

Norway sighed and slowly got out of the bed. Sometimes it seemed to him as if he was the only sane person in the whole world – though he knew that some countries would object to that, seeing as he had a magic troll as a friend. But then again... England had his imaginary friends and the American idiot had befriended an alien named Tony... Talk about strange friends.

Still listening in with one ear on the not-so-silent hushed argument between Prussia and England, Norway walked over to the wardrobe. His clothes were all nicely hung up in it – unlike Denmark's, which were like usual scattered all over the room or cramped into his half-open suitcase beside his bed. Sometimes Norway still wondered how the untidy self-proclaimed _"King of Northern Europe"_ managed to _not_ show up _once_ in a rumbled suit during a multi-day world meeting. Not even Ice, who practically had his eyes and ears everywhere, had found out the secret behind this mystery yet...

After taking his favourite dark blue hoodie sweater with the Norwegian flag sewn on it out of the wardrobe and grabbing his tablet and phone Norway made his way to the hotel room door, opening it slightly to peek into the corridor to get a quick glimpse on the situation that awaited him.

Outside, to the right of the door (from Norway's perspective) England was seemingly feeling up an unconscious Denmark, who had been seated on the dark-green carpeted floor, back leaning against the wall. Same picture with Prussia and Spain on the opposite side of the corridor beside the Spaniard's hotel room door, which happened to be right across Denmark's and Norway's room.

If Norway hadn't been listening in on the conversation between Prussia and England suddenly walking out of the room and in on that strange scene...

Putting those thoughts aside, Norway closed the door again – cautious not to attract any attention to his presence. He had forgotten to put some shoes on.

Sighing about his own (untypical) forgetfulness he went back to the wardrobe and slipped his beloved dark grey _Converse_ on. They were pretty worn out – if one would put it really blunt, one might even say that they were on the edge of coming apart by the seams. Norway wore them anyway for they'd been a birthday present from is _lillebror_ from some years back.

"God, this is so bloody stupid! I can't find the bloody key card. I bet that git doesn't even have one, knowing Norway..."

England was quite right with his guess. Denmark wasn't in possesion of a key card for his hotel room. He was just that much of a scatterbrain that every time he had to room with Norway at a world meeting the small blond took it from him before he could even try to _"not"_ lose it. Besides, that way Norway had an insurance to not be walked in on by the idiot when he wanted to be alone – even if they were technically _sharing_ the room.

"Seems that Toni here's the same. Maybe we should just dump them here..."

"What was the point in dragging them up here in the first place then?"

"Right..."

Silence. Norway couldn't help, but grin a little (or better, merely visible) at the sudden absence of the nonsense rambling, remembering the argument about waking Romano and him up to open the doors just a few minutes back.

Prussia had argued against it saying that he had no desire _whatsoever_ to be shouted Italian curses at and getting on Romano's bad side again, now that they seemingly started to get along a little bit better.

England argued against waking Norway in the fear of attracting his anger at being disturbed in his peace and reading _"Harry Potter"_ on top of it. Regarding the _"Harry Potter"_ part, Scotland could probably sing various songs on what a bad idea it was to disturb his younger brother while reading the adventures of the wizard with the lightning scar. Regarding Norway: "He'll probably won't do anything to us right away, but wait until the next world meeting that's held in Norway... He'll send his bloody troll after us."

Norway had no idea where that came from (Well no, he had a vague idea, but anyway...), for he'd never send his magical friend to attack any nation besides Denmark. Or at least he didn't remember in ever doing so...

The sudden silence in the corridor was of no long duration, for the argument between Prussia and England commenced again (This time arguing about which door to knock on first.) just as Norway had slipped his shoes on and made his way back to the door, deciding to put those two's misery to an end – seeing as they'd suffered enough, physically (Denmark wasn't quite as light as a feather, nor did Spain appear to be so.) and mentally. And of course there was still the fear of waking up Switzerland, the gun crazy alarm clock murderer.

"Well, screw this! We'll decide this like real men..." Norway heard Prussia say decisively as he reached out for the door handle, pausing midway. Might want to hear the end of that sentence...

"Let's do Rock-Paper-Scissors!"

Norway nearly – _nearly_ – facepalmed himself at that (Should have seen _that_ coming...), but instead grabbed the door handle and finally opened the door, just to find England losing to Prussia – Rock against (awesome) Paper.

"Mind my asking what you're doing here?"

As if caught in an illegal or secret action Prussia and England cringed and spun around to face Norway in the doorway of his hotel room (Who managed to raise just one eyebrow enquiringly, which by the way always made Denmark furious with envy...).

Since the sudden shock of being walked in on seemingly had rendered both of them speechless, Norway sighed, stepped out into the hallway and gestured to the open hotel room door. "Don't bother explaining. I heard your entire conversation. Just bring those drunken idiots in."

England was the first one to recover. "You're sure we should bring _both_ of them in?"

Norway sighed again. Why did people always have to ask further questions? "Just bring them in already and let them sleep it off. Can't afford you two making any further ruckus out here..."

At that Prussia and England exchanged a confused glance.

"You do know that Switzerland's room just two doors further down this hallway?"

This simple statement worked like a true magic spell – after the other two went completely white for a moment. Well, Switzerland was a scary nation.

Quickly and trying to be as quiet as possible Prussia and England picked up the two unconscious nations they'd dragged up from the hotel bar and stumbled past Norway into the offered hotel room.

"Denmark's bed is the one on the right. You can put Spain wherever you want – sofa, floor or into Denmark's bed instead of the beer brained idiot. I don't really care – just stay clear of my bed, okay?" Norway instructed as England walked passed him. Then he turned around to leave.

"Where you going?" England asked, crouching down underneath Denmark's weight.

"Going to seek a quiet place to read."

_**xXx**_

_**Meanwhile in another hotel room a few minutes prior to Prussia's and England's arrival...**_

Just a few minutes had passed now since Prussia's call and Romano had went to bed again after checking at least five times that he'd made sure to turn his cell phone off for good. Yet he couldn't go back to sleep and was instead turning from side to side, getting tangled in his bed covers.

As he tried to untangle himself, Romano found himself lying on the floor, having fought so hard with the covers that he'd fallen out of bed. Rubbing his hurting butt he got to his feet – all the while cursing fiercely in Italian under his breath – and decided to get some water, for his throat was kind of feeling dry all of a sudden.

Walking into the bathroom and turning on the tap he kept on asking himself why the fucking hell he was unable to fall asleep again. He'd been pretty tired after the long day in the meeting room, what with all the point- and endless discussions and being surrounded by mostly annoying people. He'd practically fallen into bed and immediately asleep after returning from today's meetings or better, after excusing himself from the after-meeting-drinking at the hotel bar. Hell, he couldn't even remember putting his pyjamas on. He'd been so out and yet after one tiny little call he was unable to fall asleep again, even if he still felt pretty beaten up.

Romano sighed and left the bathroom. He _needed_ to sleep if he wanted to survive the next day without getting entirely irritated and even more bitchy than usual. No amount of espresso could make up for a lost night's sleep.

Walking back to his bed he caught a glimpse of the clear night sky outside the windows. Looked like it might be nice outside. Maybe one would even be able to see the stars... He liked looking at the stars – made him remember the good old times when he sailed with Grandpa Rome.

Still gazing out of the window, Romano suddenly remembered someone mentioning at lunch that this hotel had a rooftop garden. Maybe a little bit fresh night air would help him and that way he also could avoid running into Prussia, if he found a way to drag Spain up here from the hotel bar. Last thing he wanted tonight was another argument with the albino bastard.

Having made up his mind about the rooftop garden visit, Romano quickly got out of his pyjama bottoms and walked over to his half-open suitcase beside the wardrobe – he hadn't had the time nor the nerve to unpack yet (and probably wouldn't do so for the remaining duration of the meeting) – blindly pulling out the first pair of trousers (a pair of black jeans) and T-shirt he could find. As he put them on, he saw how rumpled both of them were for he'd just thrown random things into his suitcase in record time so as not to miss his flight after the short notice of his brother's inability to attend the meeting himself. He'd had to get his business suits for the meetings ironed at the hotel as soon as he'd arrived late yesterday evening. So besides the three suits he'd brought along all his other clothes looked like those of a teenager who'd packed his own suitcase for the first time in his life and never had heard of folding your clothes nicely – or cared to do so.

"Ah, what the hell – nobody's gonna see me like this anyway," Romano said to himself turning away from the mirror on the wardrobe door to search for his dark blue cashmere sweater in the clothing heap chaos of his suitcase, ending the whole affair in having all of his clothes lying around him and the suitcase on the hotel room floor.

Not bothering to clean the mess, Romano got to his feet again, pulling the sweater on and taking his phone from the chair he'd thrown it on, as well as grabbing the key card out of his jacket's pocket and getting his headset from the bedside table – at least he'd had the presence of mind to put it there, for else he might not have found it again till after unpacking his things at home.

Checking that he hadn't forgotten anything he pulled his black _Converse_ on and left the room, heading straight for the elevators. He pressed the up-button and waited to see which one of the two elevators would come first – the left one coming up from the ground floor and the right one coming down from two floors above.

The elevator on the right won the race. Romano stepped in and pressed the button for the last floor. Just as the doors began to close he could hear the other elevator arriving and opening its doors to let a rather tired seeming argument between two accented voices spill out of it, making Romano hold his breath for a second.

The doors closed and he sighed in relief. He didn't even dare to think what might have awaited him, had the other elevator arrived first... That'd been one fucking close call.

* * *

**A/N: **

**I'm sorry. I know, I promised you that Romano and Norway would finally meet in this chapter... but obviously they didn't. The story kind of ran away on its own... _again_ and I got some new ideas of what I wanted to put in this chapter so the meeting had to be postponed to the next one. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter nonetheless. **

**See you next chapter.  
**

_**_Katie**_

**P.S.: Btw... Thanks for the reviews (as well as favourites**** and follows) I've got so far. They really made my day.**


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